


A Holiday Wish

by yachterotter



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Christmas, F/M, Family Feels, Fluff, Gen, Holidays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:22:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22014055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yachterotter/pseuds/yachterotter
Summary: On a cold winter night in December, in a cabin far away from the lights of the city, a young child with long golden hair sits in front of the twinkling lights of the menorah, waiting for her father to return.Meanwhile, Mia finds herself wanting to escape this year's Smoak-Queen holiday festivities as she goes into an argument with her parents, leading her to find a cabin she has never been to in her life, but feels so much like home.
Relationships: Connor Hawke/Mia Smoak, Felicity Smoak & Mia Smoak, Oliver Queen & Mia Smoak, Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak, William Clayton & Mia Smoak
Comments: 5
Kudos: 70





	A Holiday Wish

**Author's Note:**

> A little belated Holiday present for the fandom. Putting this out there as wishful thinking before the series diverges from my head canon. No beta, so all mistakes are mine. Please let me know if there are any inaccuracies to any of the practices and traditions mentioned below. Happy holidays, everyone!

On a cold winter night in December, in a cabin far away from the lights of the city, a young child with long golden hair sits in front of the twinkling lights of the menorah. 

“Make a wish, my little star,” her mother tells her. 

The young girl closes her eyes as tight as she could and prays. 

“What did you wish for?” the older woman asks. 

“That we spend all of our Christmases and Hanukkahs with dad,” the little girl chimes, “and also that he gets me lots and lots of presents.” 

Her mother brings her in for a tight hug, the smell of their tree giving her comfort. 

“Me, too, my dear,” she whispers as she lights the last candle. 

*

Winter of 2040 has proven to be the coldest she’s ever had in her lifetime, Mia determines in her head, yet, she’s sitting in the corner of the large receiving room of the Queen Mansion, currently packed with politicians, investors, and important people, as she takes a swig of her champagne. 

She’s dressed in a long black dress tonight, her long wavy blonde hair bundled up in a bun. There isn’t much for her to celebrate this year, aside from the glaring obvious that this is the first time she’d be able to legally get drunk at the Annual Queen Holiday Party. 

Oh, she’s _so_ looking forward to that. 

She didn’t actually even want to go home for the holidays this year, but, surprise, surprise, old stubborn Mia has a soft spot for her mother, who just couldn’t stop calling and texting her, practically begging her to come home. 

Well, here she is. 

Growing up, she actually found the holidays to be the best time of the year.

Being part Jewish means that she gets the best of both worlds (as her mother always says), with Mama Donna flying over so they could observe. 

Her Mama Donna, and occasionally, her Grandpa Noah, would always comment on how she looks more and more like her mother every single time. (Although, truth be told, she gets that from everyone). 

Then, the Christmas season comes along and her father would always make an extravagant dinner filled with food no one could actually pronounce, and they’d eat until they couldn’t stand up from their chairs. 

At times, her Aunt Thea comes home from wherever in the world she’s been to (her jealousy of her aunt’s lifestyle is a constant), and she’d always bring home whatever souvenir she could find for her and Will. 

William, her annoying but lovable (don’t tell him that) brother, would always come home from Central City to gloat about whatever new discovery he has. She never tells him this, but she's proud of him, too. 

As for her, she always gets the grandest presents (when she was a kid, she’d get all the new toys that would make her friends jealous; two years ago, they got her a new car), but she never ever had the one thing she’s always wanted. 

Her freedom. 

It has been four days since she landed from her plane ride from Massachusetts, and to say that things were intense in the Smoak-Queen household is a bit of an understatement. 

The fact that Will boasting his annoying achievements for Clayton Consolidated was the best part of last night’s dinner speaks _volumes_ , when all she did with her dad over the last four days was argue. 

You see, she wants to do more for the city. She wants to help stop crimes and make an actual change, just like how her parents did it when they were her age. 

(She’s staring right at her mother, whom she knew was already a vigilante at twenty-two). 

Yet, her parents insist that she finishes college, and maybe “find a safer, less life-threatening career path,” her father’s exact words. 

What is she going to do with all the self-defense skills she trained for? 

“Mia!”

She finds herself looking up to the sound of a man calling her name out, only to find said man to be her childhood friend, Connor. 

“You’ve grown. The last time I saw you, you were this little!” He gestures to the space just below his shoulders.

She envelopes Connor in a hug, secretly finding comfort inside the warmth of his firm arms. She remembers having a little crush on him when they were younger (her mom and Aunt Lyla, on the other hand, were pushing for her and JJ). 

“That’s what happens when you’ve been away for five years,” she answers with a smirk, “Where have you been deployed?” 

“That’s classified information, Ma’am,” JJ, her _other_ childhood friend, chimes and appears at Connor’s side. 

“What’s it like in the army?” she asks, maybe a little too bluntly. 

“Tough, but rewarding,” Connor answers with a smile, “do you still want to join the force?” 

She nods. “Dad disapproves of the idea, though.” 

“Maybe he’s just worried about you. You _are_ the daughter of a congressman and a CEO. Not to mention the fact that they were both vigilantes,” JJ answers. 

Mia finds herself rolling her eyes at the thought. “John and Lyla didn’t seem to have the same sentiment when you two joined the army.” 

She downs her glass. 

“Do you have plans on Saturday night?” Connor asks, “Want to hang out somewhere?” 

Mama Donna comes home that night, but honestly, she doesn’t care about disappointing another family member tonight. 

“Why not?” 

“Hey sis, mom and dad are looking for you,” William says as he approaches their little group, quickly acknowledging the Diggles. 

“Duty calls,” she grabs another glass of champagne from a server passing by and raises her glass. 

And that’s how she ended the night with six glasses of champagne on their annual holiday party and plans on Saturday night. 

*

“I'm going out.” Mia aptly announces as she finds her parents fussing getting dinner ready. It’s _the_ Saturday night. That night she made plans with her friends (Zoe’s even coming!) knowing that her Mama Donna’s coming home. 

“Where are you going? Will’s on his way from the airport with your grandmother.” 

She rolls her eyes as she finds her father’s tone a little too patronizing. 

“I'm an adult now. Do I really still have to tell you where I go every single time I leave the house?” 

“As long as you live under my roof, Mia,” her father answers coldly, his eyes turning into those freezing blues those criminals might have shit their pants for. 

Well, never has that worked on his own daughter. 

“There’s only one solution to that, is there?” she announces as if to state the obvious, taking her keys, and shutting the door a bit too loudly. 

“Mia, we’re not finished talking,” her agile father followed suite, standing in front of her car, in the middle of a cold winter, in just his shirt and pants. Side note, how does he do it? 

"Well, I don't want to live under this roof anymore. Frankly, I wish I’d stayed in Massachusetts over the holidays! Maybe I should be on my way back there right now.” 

Shaking, she starts the engine and watches her father move out of the way, letting her drive away from him, away from the one thing keeping her from her freedom. 

*

Mia doesn’t know how long she’s been driving. She’s pretty sure that she’s past city limits, and she’s sure she’s never been to this place before. 

She’s never driven this far in her life, after all. 

“Welcome to Bloomfield,” she whispers as she approaches a small town, the snow covering half of what she’s supposed to be able to read. “I wonder where I’ve heard that place from,” she tells herself as she finds herself in a town too familiar for her to have never been to. 

The roads were exactly how she pictured them. The stores, lined up in the middle of the town, albeit covered in snow, were in places she knew they would be in, which is totally weird, and completely illogical. 

Like, she knew she’d find a pharmacy in the corner of the street, and poof, there it is!

The weirdest part of it all is how she drove through town as if she’s walked these streets her entire life. 

Trust her, she’s never been here before. Just as she’s about to enter what appears to be a residential area, her engine started making weird noises. That’s when she found the snow to be too high for her to drive through, and her car to be stuck in the middle of it all. 

“Frack!” she screams in frustration. 

Getting out of the car, she finds herself outside a quaint cabin by the woods. 

She swears she’s seen this house before. 

That’s not even the weirdest part. 

The weirdest part? The fact that she knows that it would take her twenty steps from the gate to the front door. The fact that she knows which exact stair plank would a creaking sound. The fact that the sound that the door makes when you knock on it three times feels like the sound she’s heard a million times before. 

Trust Mia, she’s never been here before. 

She finds the door unlocked as she opens it and calls out for somebody. 

No one seems to be home. 

Or, maybe she is, because that’s what it felt like stepping into this house. 

It was as if she has memories in this house that she doesn’t recall. 

She knows that if you walk towards the hall to the right you’ll find three bedrooms lined up in succession. She knows that the bathroom is just on the second door to the left. She knows that there is a chair in the living room by the windows, and that it’s the coziest spot in the room, especially during the winter. 

She looks at the kitchen and she sees herself having pancakes with her mom on the counter. She looks to the family room and envisions movie nights on the couch, a gigantic bowl of popcorn on the side table. She can feel the smell of her mom’s favourite cheese. 

“It’s odd, isn’t it?” 

Her heart beats out of her chest, stunned by the sudden noise that it takes her two seconds to realize that it’s her mom, who’s obviously been following her since she left the house. 

“Seriously, mom,” she holds her hand out to her chest in an attempt to calm herself down. 

She doesn’t even realize that there were tears in her eyes until she had to run to her mother, and had to wipe them on her sweater as she burrows her face on her chest. 

As she lifts her face up to meet her mother’s eyes, Felicity frames her daughter’s face with her hands and says, “I've dreamt about this place a lot.” 

“At times, in my dreams, it was just your Dad and I, and I was pregnant with you,” her mom continues, “Your brother wasn’t there.”

She squeezes her mom’s hands, finding comfort, while urging her to tell her more. 

"At times, it was just you and me.”

She finds her mother’s crying as if it were, and honestly, she feels that loneliness, too. Somehow, somewhere, in her heart, this place makes her feel lonely, too. 

“One night, I had the worst dream of them all. We lost your father. I was standing right in this spot,” her mom gesture to the floors and to one of the bedrooms, “and you were there in your crib, crying, when he had to say goodbye. I had to raise you on my own.” 

Mia didn’t know why she couldn’t stop crying, as if her mother’s dreams were a reality, as if she really had to spend her life with just her mother, never knowing her brother and her father. As if she didn’t experience everything she _actually_ did - like they never had their yearly holiday tradition, like she never grew up training and sparring with her dad, like she didn’t grow up to her dad making her Monte Cristos every morning, or falling asleep to her mom and dad reading her the Wizard of Oz every night. How her father try to change his voice just so she could laugh. 

She couldn’t even imagine a life without her brother. A life where she never had the chance to call him whenever she needed someone to talk to when their parents were getting too annoyingly sweet. A life where her brother wasn’t there to back her up. 

The flashes won’t stop coming back. Of mornings waiting by the door, wanting her father to come back home. Of praying and wishing every single night that she would get to spend one Christmas with his father. 

“I knew none of it was real, but I needed answers,” her mother continued, “So, I did everything that I could, trying to prove that this place was just a figment of my imagination. The events? Maybe. This house wasn’t. I found this cabin. The exact same cabin in my dreams.”

“Mom, why does it all feel so real?”

She knows her mother would try to find the science of it. She’d try to decode every single detail of what’s going on, down to the last particle just to find out the truth. 

“I don’t understand any of it, Mia. Maybe we’ll never know why. But I do know one thing. I don’t want to live that life,” her mother says with determination, “Your father has the same fear. He doesn't want to live in a world without you.”

She looks out at the window by the fireplace, and she thinks she sees herself standing there waiting by the snow. 

“So, your dad tries. He tries everything in his power to keep you safe. To the point that he forgets to think about what the other person may feel about it. Then again, I think I know someone else who might also be like that,” she finds her mother winking at her. “Talk to your Dad, Mia. Tell him what you really want, and he’ll listen.” 

Mia sighs in defeat, “Mom, can you bring me home? I want to talk to Dad.” 

*

“The prodigal daughter has arrived,” William announces as she enters the front door. 

“Don’t get me started on the things you did when you were younger, Will,” her mother teases back as she closes the door and they put the coats on the rack. 

She finds herself in a tight hug, her brother whispering in her ear, “don’t make me hack the entire country again just to find you, got it?”

“Running away on the day before Christmas Eve? Typical Queen move,” she turns to find her Aunt Thea home, also bringing her in for a tight hug, when she finds her Mama Donna waiting to be noticed. 

“So, how much do I look like my mom this year?” she asks her Mama Donna, as she finds herself peppered with kisses. “A hundred percent. Well, you also act like her when you were her age.” 

She grabs her phone and shoots Connor a quick message, “Sorry, I couldn’t make it last night. Family thing. Want to catch up some other time? Hope I’m forgiven,” and says a quick prayer than he doesn’t add to the piling list of people upset with her this Christmas. 

She finds herself meeting her dad in the eye, who’s surprisingly calm after their last conversation.

Just as she was about to start the conversation, her dad beat her to it, “Get your stuff ready for a two-day trip, Mia,” he announces, “we’re heading out.” 

“Where are we going?” she responds in wonder. 

“Your mother wants to spend the holidays somewhere different this year,” her dad adds, handing out her lunch. 

“I may have a few things under my sleeve,” her mother adds, winking at her. 

* 

On a cold winter night in December, in a cabin far away from the lights of the city, a family of six huddles around the fireplace. 

“Well, technically, we’re still negotiating on the price and terms, but a hefty down payment gave us the luxury of doing whatever we want here for the holidays, so--” her mother explains as they watch the twinkling lights of the tree and the menorah by the snow. 

The Smoak-Queens sit by the fireplace on Christmas Eve, hot chocolate in hand. Her mother’s munching on her favorite smelly cheese, as she watches the snowfall by the large window. 

The best spot in the house. 

They bought a new fresh tree and decorated it just a few hours ago, her Aunt Thea adding in a few new ornaments from her trips around South Asia, while she and William hung everyone’s stockings by the fireplace. 

“How did mom find me so quickly when I didn’t even see her car following me?” she asks William quietly. 

“She didn’t follow you. She was here, in Bloomfield, trying to buy the cabin when dad called her,” he responded. “The moment Mom pulled up your coordinates, she told me she knew exactly why you’d be where she found you.” 

Mia finds herself dumbfounded as her mother sits with her. 

“I thought we’d make new memories here,” her mom adds, as if she knew what she was thinking, “maybe they’d make the bad dreams go away.” 

Mia laughs at the thought and kisses her mother’s cheek. “I love you, Mom. Merry Chrismukkah!”

“I love you, too.” 

Her phone beeps with a quick message from Connor, "No prob. Next Saturday sound good?" 

Her father announces that dinner is almost ready, prompting everyone to head to the table to get it set up. Seconds later, she finds herself standing beside him. 

“So, I spoke with your mother,” he starts, “and she told me how I might have been a little too harsh on you. You’re an adult, Mia, and I know that we’ve raised you well to make your own decisions.” 

She finds her dad getting nervous, his fingers moving around each other. 

“Just please hold off on any reckless decisions until after you graduate from college, okay?” 

She laughs and she vaguely remembers someone making an off-handed comment about her being smarter than her father when he was her age. 

“Sure thing, dad. And also, thank you.” 

“For what?” Oliver answers in that sweet tone he reserves for his family. 

She wraps her dad in a tight hug and smiles at a vision of her younger self by the window, thanking her for making that wish one winter night. The little girl got her wish after all. 

“For always coming home.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
